The Blood of Gods
by The King of Fake
Summary: Percy and Jason grow up as close as brothers, forming a deep and long-lasting friendship. Jason is adopted by Percy's parents, and is trained alongside Percy to become perfect soldiers and leaders of Rome. They are taught not only swordsmanship, but also how to become weapons themselves. As they grow up they start coveting the attention of a girl which destroys them and Rome itself


**In this fanfic, Percy and Jason grow up in an estate on the outskirts of New Rome. Both Paul and Sally live in New Rome. This is an AU fanfic.**

The track in the woods was a wide walkway. Two boys aged seven strolled on it. The taller one, Perseus, with the dark disheveled, unkempt hair spoke frowning.

"We're gonna be killed for this Jason," Jason looked at his best-friend with an arched eyebrow.

"I don't think Chiron will do anything to us,"

"Sure he won't," replied Perseus with derision. "If you remember last time, which I'm sure you do, he smacked you really hard for running away from cleaning the stables."

"Oh, that. That was nothing, just a tickle on my face." Jason smiled

"Hmmm, Sure!" Perseus snorted.

Together they walked further down the firm, granite marble causeway, when with extreme vigor Perseus again warned Jason.

"We will surely be killed for this." In his hand was a smooth pebble he had picked up on the edges of the river that flowed through his estate.

"Your fault, Perseus, for pushing me into the lake. Now, Chiron doesn't allow us to go anywhere." Perseus laughed and pushed his friend into the bushes that lined the passage before them. He whooped and ran as the shorter boy got up, following him, not caring that he was as dirty with thick, black mud as to be almost unrecognizable by human eyes.

"Attack." Screamed Jason as he ran after the slightly older boy. No matter how many times Jason contemplated the fact that although he had the same number of legs as Perseus, he could never outrun him, though that never stopped him to try. Perseus moved with resounding speed. The imminent beating they would get for ruining their tunics was far-away and with almost childish ignorance leaned his body forward causing him to stumble. From behind Jason tackled Perseus to the ground, both fell into the gooey mud and burst into laughter, rolling around again unwittingly unaware that they were splashing more dirt onto their garments.

Perseus recovered quickly. He groaned as he took in his surroundings. The chase had carried them off his father's small estate and into the neighbor's part of the woods. He should have recognized the tracks that served as a boundary between the two villas.

"What do we have here? A _stultus_ and his _bastardus_ friend."

It was Octavian who spoke, the eldest son of the neighboring estate. He was fourteen and was going to be the new Augur once he approached maturity. Until then he killed time, doing nothing. He had a mop of blond hair over a face that was speckled with white headed eruption that covered his cheeks and forehead, with a sprinkling of angry looking red ones disappearing under his _praetexta_ tunic. He also had a long, straight stick in his hand, friends to impress and afternoons to while away.

Perseus was frightened, knowing he was out of his depth. He and Jason had been trespassing- the best that they could expect was a few broken bones, the worst; Octavian informing Perseus's father about their activities in another estate. He looked at Jason, who gazed fearfully at the ground.

"Let us go Octavia, we're expected back."

"Speaking mudfish, boys! Hold them up. I have a twine that will do well for tying up mudfish." Perseus didn't consider running, with Jason unable to get away; he would never leave anyone, especially his friend behind. This wasn't a game. All humor was obviously wiped away from the boys' face as they knew that Octavian's cruelty was seemingly endless. He was like a scorpion, ready to strike without a warning.

Two boys approached Perseus with their staffs held ready. They were both foreign to Perseus. One walloped Jason in the stomach and then dragged him up. The other, a hefty stupid-looking boy rammed his stick into Perseus's stomach. He doubled up in agony, unable to speak. He could hear the boy laughing as he cramped and groaned, trying to curl into a ball.

"Your father knows my father," Perseus spat out as the pain in his stomach lessened.

"True- doesn't like him though. My father is a proper patrician, not like yours. Your whole family could be his servants if he wanted. I'd make the mad mother of yours scrub the tiles."

Fury bled into Perseus's eyes and then inexorable resignation. What could he say to bargain? His father had no real power in the city. His mother's family had produced a couple of Praetors- his uncle Marius was a powerful man, so his mother said.

"We are _nobilitas-_ my uncle Marius is not a man to cross…"

"Him! That buffoon could not run New Rome even if he had been blessed by the gods. Unlike him, I am a legacy of The Great god Apollo himself."

As Perseus went to defend his unfamiliar uncle he heard another muffled scream from Jason as the two burly sycophants thumped Jason to the ground. Octavian, grinned with glee.

"Leave us, you spot covered pus-bag," screamed Jason. Perseus knew that now, surely, they were going to be killed.

"Jason, you idiot, you know how sensitive he is about his spots. Right?" Octavian raised an eyebrow and gasped.

"Oh you have made a mistake little mudfish." With that threat, Octavian slammed his fist in Perseus's nose, breaking it with a cracking sound.

"Thanks, Octavian," stuttered Perseus, his voice trembling. "I think you've stopped my nosebleed."

Jason smiled at Perseus's bravery. When he had first come to live with them, the little boy had been naturally nervous and a little small for his age. Perseus had shown him around the estate and ended up in the stables right at the top of the stacked sheaves. They had looked down onto the pile of soft hay and Perseus saw Jason's hands trembling.

"I'll go first and show you how it's done," Perseus had said cheerfully, launching himself feet first and whooping as he collided with the soft hay. From below, he'd looked at the edge for a few seconds, waiting to see Jason appear. Just as he'd thought it would never happen, a small figure shot into the air, leaping high. Perseus had scrambled out of the way as Jason crashed into the hay, winded and gasping.

"I thought you would be too afraid to do it."

"I was afraid, but I won't be afraid, I just won't."

The hard voice of Octavian's broke into Perseus's spinning thoughts: "Gentleman, meat must be tenderized with mallets. Take your station and begin the technique like so."

He swung his stick at Perseus's head, catching him under the ear. The world burst into a phantasmagoria of vibrant colors; it was once white, then shifting into black as he closed his eyes. For a while, everything was still, too still. The wind was dead, Perseus noticed as he began to open his eyes. Then with the movement of his eyelashes came another powerful blow to his head. He thought he could hear Jason crying as he fell onto the ground. His consciousness submerged into darkness as he passed out to the accompaniment of jeers and laughter.

He woke and went back under a couple of times in the daylight, but it was dusk when he was finally able to stay conscious. His right eye was a heavy mass of blood, and his face felt swollen and caked in stickiness. He nudged Jason with his quivering hand. His friend didn't stir. He looked terrible, like some sort of demon. The crust of crumbling mud had broken away leaving only gray dust and skin tinted red and purple. His jaw was swollen, and a lump stood out on his temple. Perseus tried to move his own hands. Though painfully stiff, they both worked and he tried to wake his friend. His young frame was supple and the new burst of pain was ignored because of the worry he had for his friend.

"Jason! Can you hear me? I'm going to get us back, don't you worry. Then I'm going to kill Octavian and his fat friends."

Jason remained slack and his mouth fell open. Perseus decided to get himself up. He heaved himself, crying out with pain from his stomach. He jackknifed the branch and gripped it with both hands, lungs wheezing with effort. He felt weak and his vision blurred. He thought he would vomit, and could do no more than just hold on for a few moments. Finally with sheer determination he staggered up. Another thought struck him, Julius, his father must have been back from the city. It was growing dark and he and his mother would be worried. They must not find us like this, thought Perseus, it would be too humiliating.

"Jason? We'll tell everyone we fell. I don't want my father to know about this."

Jason creaked and opened his eyes at the fresh pain.

"My hand," he whispered, his voice cracking.

"Broken I'd say. Don't move it. We have to get out of here in case Octavian comes back. Can you stand?"

"I can, I think, though my legs feel weak. That Octavian is a bastard," Jason muttered, wincing as he moved his jaw. He decided to talk no further.

"True- we have a score to settle." Perseus nodded grimly. Jason smiled as he was propped up by Perseus.

"Thanks Percy," he mumbled.

The two boys staggered home in the darkness, past the stables and the cornfields that supplied fresh crops to new Rome. As expected the lights were still on.

"Chiron will be waiting for us; he never sleeps," Perseus spoke as they passed under the pillars of the outer gate.

A voice in the shadows made them jump:

"A good thing too. I would have hated to miss this spectacle. You are lucky your father is not here. He would have taken the skin of your back if he had seen you,"

"I don't think so, this is the 21st Century."

"Watch your mouth, Percy!" castigated Chiron. "What was it this time?"

Chiron stepped into the yellow light of the lamps and leaned forward. He was a powerfully built ex-legionnaire, who'd started working for his father as the overseer of their little estate and never looked back. His father had said he was one in a thousand for organizing talent. The workers worked well under him, some from fear and some from liking. He sniffed at the two young boys.

"Mind you, you didn't pick up those stick marks by yourself, did you? Octavian, was it? I should have kicked his backside for him years ago, when he was young enough for it to make a difference."

"No Chiron, we had an argument and fought each other. No one else was involved and even if there was someone, we could've handled him."

Chiron grinned at this from such a young boy. He was forty-five years old with hair gone gray in his thirties. He had been a legionary in the 5th Cohort, before Varus had disgraced them. He put out his great spade of a hand and rubbed his square fingers through Perseus's hair.

"I do see, little Wolf. You are your father's son. But, you cannot handle everything yourself, yet."

Perseus drew himself up to his full height and said with newfound confidence.

"Send James to me to look at our wounds. My nose is broken and I can say the same for Jason's hand."

Chiron watched them totter into the main house and resumed his post in the darkness, guarding the gate on first watch, as he did each night. It would be summer soon and the days would be too hot to bear. It was good t0 be alive with the sky so clear and honest work ahead.

 **Line Break**

The following morning was an agony of protests from muscles, cuts and joints. And the two days after that even worse. Jason had succumbed to fever and the doctor could do nothing but prescribe medicines to keep the temperatures low. For days he remained hot and constrained to his bed with nothing but the walls to keep him company as Percy was not allowed to go into Jason's room. Almost exactly one week after the attack Percy and Jason were recovering. Their body was filled with yellow and purple bruises but the time had come, though, to find Octavian.

As he walked through the woods of the family estate, his mind was full of thoughts of fear and pain. What if Octavian didn't show up? There was no reason to suppose that Octavian made daily trips to the woods. What if the older friends were with him again? As he walked he heard the movement of the leaves on the ground behind him. Without turning around Percy said.

"Glad you came, Jason," a shocked expression marred Jason's face. "I didn't know what time he'd arrive, so I've been here a while. Thought you were him for a moment."

"I'd have waited with you, you know. I'm your friend. Also, I owe him a beating as well." The shocked expression gone.

"Your hand is broken, Jason. I didn't want to trouble you."

"But I could have jumped on him, or tripped him as he ran in."

"Tricks don't win battle. I will beat him with my strength."

For a moment, Jason was silenced. There was something cold and unforgiving in the usually sunny boy he faced. Jason would not speak first. Percy had made this a contest of seriousness. He could not stand hours that, Percy seemed willing to do. The shadows moved. Octavian appeared silently, walking along the path; his scarecrow figure casting a long shadow. Percy smiled and stood as tall and straight as he could.

"I am beginning to like you mudfish. I think I will kill you today, or at least break your leg. Which do you thing is fairer?"

"I'd kill me," Percy replied, with steely confidence. "Otherwise I will keep coming back until I am strong enough to kill you. And then I will have your woman, after I have given her to my friend."

Jason watched in horror as he heard what Percy was saying. Maybe they should just run. Octavian just squinted at them and took out a short blade from his belt. The one he would use to kill future teddy bears. He ran at them without saying a word. Just as he reached the pair, the ground gave away and he disappeared from sight in a rush of air and an explosion of dust and leaves.

"Built you a wolf trap, Octavian." Shouted Percy cheerfully. The two- Percy and Jason- spent few hilarious minutes watching Octavian struggle in the trap. He screamed abuse at them but was unable to do anything about the trap.

With much humor Percy and Jason ran away into the woods without looking back. As they pounded along the paths, Jason called over his shoulder, "I thought you said you'd beat him with your strength!"

"I did, I was up all night digging that hole."

 **Line Break**

Left alone, Octavian scrabbled up the sides, caught an edge, and heaved himself over and out. For a while he sat and there and contemplated his muddy praetexta. He frowned most of the way home, but as he cleared the trees and came out unto the sunshine, he began to laugh.

 **If you think this is good, review! And tell me if I should continue with this.**


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